


The darkest of nights

by FallenFurther



Series: Whumptober 2020 [3]
Category: Thunderbirds
Genre: Blood, Blood Loss, Branding, Cults, Gen, Human Sacrifice, Injury, Panic Attacks, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Rituals, Sacrifice, Serious Injuries, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-11
Updated: 2020-10-17
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:21:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 5,094
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26947366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FallenFurther/pseuds/FallenFurther
Summary: Scott is on leave from the Air Force and has promised John a peaceful night of stargazing. When that peace is shattered it is up to John to get help and save Scott. Will he be fast enough?Written using Whumptober prompt numbers 9, 25, 14, 30, 10, 29 and 18Trigger warnings for cults, devil worship, blood and panic attacks.
Series: Whumptober 2020 [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1946191
Comments: 2
Kudos: 16
Collections: Whumptober 2020





	1. For the greater good

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Number 9  
> Prompt: ritual sacrifice

Scott loved the chaos of the family home even more now; the atmosphere a stark contrast to his regimented days in the Air Force. Not to say that he didn't enjoy the Force, and it suited him well, but there was nothing better than the welcome he received when he stepped over the threshold. Yet there was one person in the house who often found it too much, and Scott had promised to take him away from it all when he got leave. Scott never wanted to break a promise to his brothers. So the day after his return he'd driven them to the middle of nowhere, on a almost moonless night, so John could get some peace while gazing at the stars. Scott shouldered most of the camping equipment while John carried a small rucksack and his precious telescope. Scott had hoped to have their tent set up before nightfall, but Gordon and Alan had tried to bring the house down and Scott had been required to sort them out. 

The air was cool as they walked through the wooded area towards the open grasslands beyond. As they carefully made their way through in the dim light, the flickering from a fire caught Scott's eye. It didn't bother Scott at first, it wasn't uncommon to find kids drinking around fires in the area, he'd done it himself a few times. However, as they drew level with the fire something about the group felt off. The fire was off to the side, not the centre, and they were chanting something in low tones. Scott slowed enough to draw level with John and placed a hand on the teenager's shoulder. John had spotted the gathering too. 

"Let's not disturb them." Scott whispered as they continued forward. 

It was the snapping of a branch to their right that put Scott on high alert. His eyes darted to pinpoint the cause only to rest on a hooded figure up ahead. Scott's grip on John tightened, pushing him forward, as Scott surveyed the area. The canopy and light from the fire cast dark haunting shadows. 

"We're just passing through." 

Scott wanted to ensure the man that they meant no harm, that they wouldn't disturb them. The figure nodded. A few steps later and a sound came from behind Scott. He twisted to see three cloaked figures running towards them. Heart in his throat, Scott feared the worst. 

"Run, John! Run!"

Scott threaded his hand under John's arm and dragged him forward as he started to run. The surprise in John's face shifted to one of seriousness and Scott was relieved when John found his feet. The moment hands fell on Scott he let go of John. 

"Keep running, John!" 

Scott shouted, angry boiling up. His hand was already a fist when he swung around and slammed it into one of the assailants. He made contact with flesh but the weight of his backpack unbalanced him and dragged him down. Scott slipped his arms from the rucksack and bolted upright, only to be body slammed. He hit the ground hard, sticks dug into his back as the air was knocked out of him. Hands grabbed his arms and his body was forced over. Thrashing his legs did nothing as cable ties were tightened around his wrists. They cut into his flesh. Scott resisted but it was futile, even with his training, fighting off three men who had the upper hand was near impossible. Once they had bound his legs, Scott knew there was little he could do.

With his face in the dirt, Scott strained his head towards John. Relief filled his heart as he watched the ginger mop get further away. John wasn't a runner, but fear was an incredible motivator. The fact that John had gotten away gave Scott courage to face whatever was about to happen. His eyes fell on the bags in the hand of one of the hooded men. It was unceremoniously thrown to the ground with a clunk and the case containing John's telescope bounced before coming to rest. The thought of damage to something so prized fanned the flames of Scott's heart. As John disappeared into the shadows of the night a gag was placed into Scott's mouth.

The figures gathered and manhandled Scott to the clearing. He was placed on a carved table into the centre of the circle. His cable around his feet was cut, his legs forced apart and bound to the table. Breathing deeply through his nose like an angry bull, Scott rocked and fought as something was tied around each wrist. Two men grabbed each lashing of rope. Someone cut the cable tie and before Scott could react his arms were yanked to the sides and up where they were bound like his feet. With him tied up, the assailants rejoined the circle and the chant. 

A hooded figure stepped forward and the chanting stopped. The crackle of the fire was the only thing to be heard. 

"The lamb has arrived. The Devil has fulfilled his promises and supplied the sacrifice. Let the ritual begin!"


	2. I think I'll just collapse right here, thanks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Number 25  
> Prompts: Blurred vision and disorientated

His bag and telescope had been ripped from his back, but he’d gotten away. John had never run so fast in his life. His lungs burned, his heart was racing and he was struggling to stay upright. The uneven ground with tree roots and small bushes seemed determined to trip him up. Every time he stumbled, John pushed himself back up and continued. He had no idea if he was being pursued, but as he broke from the edge of the trees and onto the plains they had planned to camp on, he slowed down and dared to glance back. 

There was nobody behind him; no pursuers but also no Scott. John kept moving, just in case but as the trees got further away he continued to be alone on the plain. Slowing to a stop John tried to catch his breath. They had Scott, his big brother. He couldn't go back, he would only get caught too. He had to get help. He cursed himself for not keeping his phone in his pocket. John tried to think, the main road was back the way he'd come, but there had been smaller dirt roads branching off of it. If he could find one of those he could get to the main road and flag down a car. 

John turned to the night sky. The stars he had come to see were out in their masses, bright and clear. It also felt like they were taunting him. He found north straight away, but the trek through the wood had disoriented him. The trees had hidden the stars and John had just been following Scott. He had no idea where the main road was in relation to his current position. There was no point knowing where north was if you didn't know which direction to go. 

John ran his hand through his hair, trying to fight the panic so he could think logically. The longer he hesitated the more time they had to do whatever with Scott. He scanned the forest trying to picture their route. The woods were to his east and they'd headed south from town to get here. West was definitely the wrong way and seeing as it was easier to follow the north star, John started that way north. The lack of moonlight, so good for stargazing, made his path hazardous. He jogged through the grass, head flicking between his guiding stars and the ground which seemed intent on slowing him down. John stumbled over unseen plants and was felled by animal burrows. He would catch himself with his hands, only to push himself straight back up. He had to keep going for Scott. He had to get help. 

Time was lost on John as he ran. Fatigue and cold was starting to settle in, and his lungs wanted a break. The fact that he hadn't found a road yet was disheartening. Should he turn west? Should he risk turning east and getting lost in the woods? Tears welled up in his eyes as he tripped over yet another hole in the ground. His hands hit the dirt and he just paused on his hands and knees. Small stones and grass dug into the skin on his hand as a tear fell to the parched earth. He had to keep going, he had to find help. Scott was depending on him. John turned to the sky. The little lights danced, blurred by the tears that threatened to fall. Wiping them away he checked his compass, he was still heading north. Taking a deep breath he pushed himself up and continued forward. 

His eyes were on the north star when a light to his left caught his attention. Squinting, John raised his hand to his eyes. He slowed and waved with the other, his heart pounding as hope filled him. A car. He just had to flag it down. He stopped when his feet hit the tarmac, turning to the oncoming vehicle. John's eyes widened as the screech of tyres filled the air. He'd misjudged the distance. John's body slammed into the car, but he didn't fly over it. His arm slammed into the windshield after his hip hit the bonnet, but that's where he stayed. John started to shake. 

"Oh my goodness! Are you okay? Please say you're okay? Please don't be dead."

A frantic voice came from behind him but John couldn't respond. All he could think of was how close the car had been. The headlights burnt into his vision. 

"911, I've just hit a kid! I just hit a kid!"

A hand fell in his arm and pulled, rolling John onto his back. His body responded by lying flat against the car. 

"He's breathing! He's breathing!"

There was relief amongst the distress in the voice. The hand was shaking his arm and John turned to stare at the woman on the phone. 

"What's your name, kid?"

John blinked. His name was there but it was Scott that suddenly dominated John's thoughts. Scott was the one in trouble, not him. He grabbed the woman's arm and locked onto her eyes. 

"Scott. My brother, Scott. They have him. They have him in the woods. He needs help. We have to save him."

Tears were falling down his face as everything crashed down around him. They needed to save Scott.


	3. Is something burning?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Number 14  
> Prompt: Branding

Two hooded figures approached from the sides, each with a knife in hand. Scott thrashed against the restraints but he could barely move. A cool blade slipped up his sleeve brushing the skin all the way up his arm. The sharp edge made light work of the material and there was a moment of fear when the point reached his neck. The same happened to the other side and his shirt was slid from his body. His shorts and boxers received the same treatment and with the removal of his shoes and socks, Scott was left naked. The cool air hit his skin and he shivered. He hated the fact that he was so vulnerable, that he was at their mercy. The hooded figures rejoined the circle in what felt like a strange dance. The leader still stood at his feet.

"The Devil had brought forth a sacrifice!" 

"He hath provided." The circle chorused.

"Come, young demon, the Devil has decreed you one of us."

Another hooded figure stepped forward, head bowed before the leader.

"Do you accept this sacrifice?"

"I do."

"Do you pledge obedience to our Lord?"

"I will obey."

"Will you accept his mark?"

"I will bear his mark."

"Prepare yourself."

Scott watched, along with the circle around him, as the 'young demon’ slipped the cloak from his body and let it fall to the floor. It was removed quickly by another hooded figure. The man was dressed in only tight black shorts, his bare chest on full display. His eyes, an artificially bright red, peered out of a black horned mask that hid the top half of his face. Those eyes held a cold hunger when he cast them over Scott. Scott turned to the leader as the hairs on his neck stood on end. The leader threw his cloak at the nearest hooded figure who caught it silently. Scott wished he’d kept it on. In the flickering light of the fire the mask that covered the man’s whole face was frightening. His eyes were blood red, standing out against the black curves which reached up into a pair of horns. The man’s chest was bare, showing off the large mark on his right pec. The leader set his eyes on Scott and there was movement through the mouth of the mask. Scott tensed at the thought of the grin those carve wooden fangs hid. 

The fire beside the master demon hissed, sparks flew into the air as a hooded figure fanned it. The demon reached out and grasped a pole that was sticking out of the fire bucket. A red hot brand, that matched the pattern on the demon’s chest, became visible. The young demon was kneeling now. Three strides and the brand was pressed against the young demon’s right pec. The man roared. Hands curling at his sides, his face turned to the sky above. The metal was pulled away and returned to the fire. The freshly branded man kept his head to the sky until his breathing had steadied. The leader was standing before him. 

“The Devil has claimed you as his own. Stand young demon.”

The young demon did as commanded. 

“You must now prove your loyalty. Mark you sacrifice.”

The young demon nodded and headed to the fire while the master turned to Scott. Fear came to Scott as he realised what he meant. He didn’t want to be branded. He was no sacrifice. Wrenching at the ropes still did nothing. He was going nowhere. Anger, fear and frustration built up as he growled into the gag. His eyes fell on the red hot brand in the hand of the young demon. 

“I brand thee, in the name of the Devil.”

The metal was thrust onto his left pec. The smell of burning hair and flesh filled Scott’s nose as the pain started to register. He screamed into the gag. His head hit the table, his limbs tensed against his restraints and tears leaked through his screwed up eyelids. The heat and pain didn’t go away with the removal of the brand. Scott’s body shook. He didn’t want to believe this was happening.


	4. Now where did that come from?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Number 30  
> Prompts: wound revealed and Ignoring an injury

John didn’t know if it was the police or the ambulance who arrived first. He barely registered the sirens and the flashing lights. He was coaxed off the bonnet by a paramedic who helped him into the ambulance. His body was shaking as the man started to take observations. An officer joined them as the paramedic started to clean the wounds on his legs. John hissed as the antiseptic stung. His brain finally saw the state of his skin, multiple scratches on his knees and shins though thankfully they weren’t too deep. Another officer entered and they started to question John, who answered best he could. 

“John Tracy.”

“Scott is my brother. He was with me when the men tried to grab us. I managed to get away but they got him.”

“They were wearing black cloaks, but there were a few of them in a circle, with a fire.”

“I don’t know. We parked in the car park with the large picnic area. We walked through the woods to get to the grasslands, but I can’t tell you which direction we went. I was just following Scott.”

“I followed the north star. I knew there were small roads leading off the main one and that I should hit one eventually.”

“Yes, they were in a clearing not too far from the edge of the wood. They had a fire going, though the glow was rather faint once I was out the wood.”

The questioning brought John back to his senses. His right leg and hand throbbed from the impact with the car and he was shivering from the cool air coming into the ambulance through the door. The officers turned to leave. 

“You’ll find my brother, right?”

“We’re sending out a search party. We’ll let your father know what’s happened and where you’re going. You leave everything to us now, son.”

John nodded. He’d gotten help as fast as he could, now he had to trust the police to do their job. The ambulance started to move away. The paramedic stayed by John’s side, keeping an eye on various readings and taking his medical history. At the hospital he was carefully slid from the ambulance trolley to a hospital bed. It was strange being the one in hospital. His brothers had all spent some time in the hospital for one reason or another, mainly due to broken bones, but John had managed to avoid a stay. A portable scanner was brought in and John lay still as the large wand slowly scanned his body. Twenty minutes later, John was wheeled away for X-rays which confirmed the findings. He had fractured his right fibula and radius. John just nodded, accepting the diagnosis. 

“My name’s Jeff Tracy. Where’s my son?”

John turned toward the sound. There was no mistaking that familiar demanding voice. Seconds later his father was beside him. His dad wrapped his arms around him and John leant into the embrace. His brother had been taken by a cult and he had been hit by a car. He needed his dad. 

“They took Scott, Dad.”

“I know, John. I know. The police will find him.”


	5. They look so pretty when they bleed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Number 10  
> Prompt: Blood loss

The burning in his chest was a stark contrast to the cool blade that sliced through his thigh. Biting down on gag, Scott fought the pain as the motion was replicated on his other leg. His eyes were shut to the scene, part of him not wanting to watch the demons at work. The other part wanted to work out who they were so he could make sure they ended up where they belonged, in prison, after this was all over. Scott had inherited the Tracy stubbornness, it was the fight that kept him going and forced his eyes open. He was going to survive whatever they did to him. 

There were two hooded figures either side of his, carved wooden bowls with pouring lips were held against the large gashes in his thighs. The sight of his own blood pooling from the wounds made Scott’s stomach churn. The precious red fluid was leaking out of him and into those bowls. Hands massaged the area, causing more blood to flow from the wounds. Scott gasped, fresh waves of pain radiated from his legs. When the two bowls were full, the hooded figures left. His wounds were left open. His blood continued to leave him. It trickled down his legs onto the table, slowly filing the indented pattern. Scott shivered. How much blood would he have to lose to fill those grooves completely? 

The cracking of the fire mixed with the wind through the trees as the circle stood silently. Scott watched as the hooded figures poured his blood from a height into a larger bowl. It was mesmerizing. Deep red waterfalls that flowed perfectly from the lips. The streams crossed but didn’t touch as they fell. It was like a dance. The young demon, bloody knife still in hand, knelt before the bowl. A tray was brought to the leader's left hand, on which a bowl was framed by two jugs. 

“The blood of an innocent. Pure and misguided. To it we add the truth of reality, for so much can sour our lives.”

The dark fluid in the first jug was poured into Scott's blood. 

“For we must all return to the earth, we must all become ash.”

The black power in the bowl was shaken into the mix. 

“The Devil promises us the earth will be ours.”

A brown fluid from the other jug was poured out and the leader held the bowl up, rotating it slightly to mix the fluid. 

“This is our covenant. I drink in acceptance.”

“We drink in acceptance.”

Scott was starting to feel weak as the leader drank from the bowl. The mixture coated the teeth of his mask, and dips fell from it to the ground. The bowl was then passed from hooded figure to hooded figure and Scott’s head felt dizzy as he tried to follow it. His body was shivering now, the cold seeping in through every part of his exposed body. Any heat from the fire was lost to him. The young demon hadn’t moved from his spot. He was the only one left to have not drunk from the bowl. The master demon held the bowl to the young one and fed him the grotesque fluid. The leftovers were poured into one of the collecting bowls and handed to the young demon. 

“Complete the sacrifice.”

The demon turned, his red eyes set on Scott. Scott tried to glare back, his mind slightly groggy. The hand containing the knife came towards Scott’s face and he flinched. The gag was ripped from Scott’s mouth. Before Scott had a chance to yell, the lip of the bowl was held to his lips and his mouth was full of the fluid. It was bitter, acidic and gritty. Scott choked, half swallowing half breathing the concoction. The fluid sprayed from his mouth as he gasped for air. When the torrent ended, Scott coughed violently. He managed to fix his gaze on the demon. His blue eyes locked onto his assailant’s red ones.

“In the Devil's name, I claim you.”

A glint from the knife was followed by a sharp pain in Scott’s gut. Tracking the demon’s hand to his stomach, the knife was buried deep inside him. It was twisted before being removed. Shock stole the scream that wanted to leave his lungs as blood started to flow from his abdomen.


	6. I think I need a doctor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Number 29  
> Prompts: Intubation and Emergency room

John was being a trooper. Jeff held his teenage son’s shoulder as the doctors reset his leg, the Entonox mouthpiece muffling the small gasps of pain. He worried about his son, who was quieter than normal. The moment he had his boys home he’d be calling up the insurance company to find out what councillors were available for them. The fact that Scott would inevitably end up back at an airbase was a small worry, but Jeff would insist on him getting the best help, no matter how stubborn the young man was. The scan of John’s leg confirmed it was positioned correctly and the nurse stepped forward to start the process of enclosing it in a cast, just as she’d done to John’s wrist. John removed the mouthpiece from his lips and placed it on the bed beside him. Those green eyes stared up at Jeff with worry and concern. There had been no update on Scott and the longer it went the more worried John got. The muscles in the boy’s back were tight against Jeff’s fingers. 

Jeff pulled John close, his son’s shoulder against his chest. Jeff’s fingers instinctively started to run through the ginger strands atop his head. It was to comfort himself as much as John. Something about John’s story didn’t sit right with Jeff. The hooded figures felt menacing and when he’d spoken to the police officer that had come to question John at the hospital, there was a look in his eye. This cult was known to the police. That was a cert, and there were definitely negative connotations to it. A quick search on his phone had brought up homicide and branded bodies found weeks after death. No survivors had ever stepped forward. 

“Trauma team to RESUS bay three. Trauma team to RESUS bay three.”

A nurse pokes her head into their cubicle. 

“I need to respond to this, Lauren. Would you check up on my patient in cubicle nine? Just a drunk teenager needed frequent observations.”

“Sure.”

Something about the alarm and situation made the hairs on the back of Jeff’s neck stand up. There was a need to investigate, an instinct to be there. He glanced down at John, not wanting to leave him, but he was safe. He was going to be okay. 

“I’m going to get a drink from the vending machine, John. Want anything?”

John shook his head. Jeff gave his shoulder a squeeze and left the cubicle. His eyes followed the signs to the ambulance entrance. His heart was pounding as the worst case scenarios ran through his head. He wanted it to be someone else, for someone’s son to be the one being rushed in, but his heart told him otherwise. As he turned to the corner he got a glimpse of the trolley coming through the ambulance entrance, surrounded by paramedics and doctors running to meet it. The masked face was familiar and Jeff’s blood ran cold. His body flattened against the wall as he watched the medics wheel his eldest son into the RESUS bay. 

“Adult male, name unknown, has been unconscious the entire time. Severe blood loss from deep lacerations to the upper thighs and a stab wound to the abdomen. Signs of ingestion of unknown liquid. Oxygen and fluids given on route to increase blood pressure. Oxygen levels went from 60% to just above 80% when the mask was applied and blood pressure rose from 55/33 to 68/39 with the administration of fluids.”

A tear ran down Jeff’s face as he stood frozen to the spot. Wires, needles and sensors were attached to Scott’s body as the nurses and doctors took over his care. A hand fell on his shoulder. 

“Sir, you shouldn’t be here.”

“That’s my son.”

Noise erupted around Scott and Jeff’s eyes widened in fear. 

“Get the flying squad. Activate the major haemorrhage protocol. Get access prepared, this patient needs blood NOW!”

“You need to leave, sir.”

Bags of deep red blood were in the hands of the doctors in seconds. Lines were linked between them and Scott. The red fluid was squeezed down those lines and into Scott. The white label on the bag was a complete contrast to its dark contents. The large empty O matched the way Jeff felt at that moment, hollow and at a loss. He couldn’t lose Scott. He’d lost Lucille and now, now he could lose their firstborn. 

“Take control of his airways, prepare him for surgery. We have to stop the bleeding.”

“You need to leave now, sir.”

The nurse was pulling him, but Jeff couldn’t drag his eyes away. The last thing he saw was Scott’s head being tilted back and a tube being inserted down his throat. Someone else grabbed his other arm and obscured his view. 

“Come with us, sir.”

The deeper voice grabbed his attention as he started to fight the security guard. 

“That’s my son! That’s my son!”

Jeff yelled, straining to get a glimpse of Scott. 

“You can help him by coming with us and answering some questions.”

“He’s in safe hands.” The soft voice of the nurse on his left calmed him down and Jeff let himself be led away.


	7. Panic! at the disco

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Number 18  
> Prompt: Panic attack

Scott bolted upright, fighting the sheets that were wrapped around his body. His heart was racing, his body coated in sweat as a dull ache came from the still healing wounds. The panic continued to rise as the images flew around his head. Fear and terror made him want to scream. He lost control of his stomach but managed to bend over the bed to throw up. His bin was right where he’d left it and right where it needed to be. His body was shaking as he threw off everything. 

Scott fought to steady his breathing, to calm himself down. Turning to the room he took everything in. The posters on his walls of favourite planes, the desk with the model of Lockheed F-35 Lightning II Virgil had gotten him for his birthday three years ago, his wardrobe which he knew contained his pristine Air Force uniform and finally the bookshelf with old textbooks and annuals on it. His panic lessened as he touched the wall behind him, it was a solid reminder of where he was, and more importantly, where he wasn’t. He wasn’t in the woods. He wasn’t bound. He was home. He was safe. 

A soft knock at the door made him jump, and Scott stared at it. His heart rate was pounding as his mind told him they were behind it, that they had come to finish the job. Scott froze as the handle turned, only for those tense muscles to relax at the ginger hair and green eyes that peered around the door. John entered slowly, without invitation, his crutch making soft tapping sounds against the floor. The bed sank as his brother sat down on it. The crutch was carefully laid beside the bed, before John turned to face him. Scott wanted to be the brave one, the strong, dependable older brother for his four siblings, but at that moment he couldn’t. His body was shaking and his eyes were full of fear. He wasn’t coping. 

John shuffled up the bed awkwardly and Scott let him, moving over to give him room. Scott lay back down next to John, their arms touching. Together, they stared at the ceiling, like they had planned to that night, except under a blanket of stars. No words were spoken. John was just there for Scott. It was just what Scott needed, bringing his heart down to a normal beat and the little bit of warmth that came from their contact was the connection Scott needed to help relax. Scott wished they were in John’s room, where the glow in the dark stars were still stuck to the ceiling. Instead, he imagined them. Those small pinpoints of light flicking down upon them. 

At some point, John sat up and pulled the sheets over them. Scott’s body was heavy now, exhaustion settled over him as the pain ebbed away. He had leave for the time being, for which he was grateful. He wasn’t ready to go back. Not while he still needed his brother to chase the nightmares away. Scott’s heavy eyelids closed, the steady breathing next to him lulling him off to sleep. One day he’d be better. For now, he had John.


End file.
